


Call out my name

by thehopelesswriter



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gangster Bucky, Language, Mobster Bucky, Multi - Freeform, Slight Violence, bucky does not have a metal arm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-08-29 10:24:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16742224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehopelesswriter/pseuds/thehopelesswriter
Summary: She never wanted to get involved but her brother left her no choice. Now she is supposed to fight the fight she knows she can’t win.





	1. The beginning

**Author's Note:**

> ♡ If you like this story, feel free to leave any feedback and let me know! ♡

It wasn’t like you wanted this to happen. The only reason this all happened was because of your brother, who was stupid enough to get involved in something he wasn’t suppose to be. However, it was too late for you to escape him now when his eyes were set upon the prize. 

The fall night was rather chilly, a slight breeze messing your hair as you walked along your best friend Natasha, both slightly tipsy from the cocktails you’ve had not long ago. 

“Why couldn’t we wait at him inside,” she groaned, throwing her head back, her body covered in goosebumps. The light grey cardigan not giving her the warm she wanted. 

“He was supposed to pick us up,” you reached to your black leather jacket’s pocket, looking at the time on your phone, “half an hour ago, Nat. He’s never  _that_ late.”

“Then why don’t you call him?” 

“I did...three times. He’s not picking up,” a line appeared between your brows as you thought about it. He was never that late and if he knew he would be late, he’d call you. 

A cold chill ran down your spine like a bad sign as you walked with Nat. Both of you left the bar only a few minutes ago, just passing the bar’s parking lot when Nat stopped, her brows snapped together, a confusion taking over her face as you looked somewhere in the dark.

“Isn’t that Clint’s car?” she said after a second passed. Your eyes focused on the car in the distance, taking in the way it looked quite similar to your brother’s. 

“Could be but he was supposed to pick us up,” you wondered, sharing a quick glance with Nat and both of you began to walk towards the car.

“Maybe he’s just arrived,” your friend shrugged.

Soon enough, it was evident it was indeed your brother’s car. However, no one was around, the parking lot empty.

“Y/N,” Nat called at you as she walked to the other side of the car and as you looked at her, she took the handle and opened the doors, “it’s opened.”

“He never leaves his car open.”

A strong feeling of uneasiness filled your whole body as you frantically looked around one more time, looking for any figure. He had to be around.

“Perhaps he just needed to pee or something.”

“Seriously,” you quickly replied, taking your phone out, “I’m calling him right now and he better pick up,” you informed Nat who nodded and went to look around while you dialled the number.

It rang for a few seconds before he finally picked up, a relieve taking over you.

“God, Clint, where the hell are you?” you breathed out. 

“Um...I found his phone,” said Nat’s voice from the other side. You looked at your friend who was standing about sixteen feet from you, a worried look on her face as she held your brother’s phone to her ear, talking with you. 

“That’s it, I’m calling the police,” the panic started to rise as you ended the call, swiftly typing the police when Nat stopped you with a loud: “Hey.”

“I heard something,” she added as you saw her looking somewhere north in a direction of a narrow street, the phone still pressed against her ear as she stood frozen.

Your eyes glanced from her body to the street a few times before you heard a noise as well. It was like a thud like something heavy fell harshly on the floor. Only a fast glance was shared between you and Nat before you started to walk towards the place, not giving a single care about what might come. 

“What the hell you doing?” Nat ran to you, stopping you by grabbing your hand, “you don’t know what or who is there,” she hissed.

“You don’t either. Plus it’s my brother, it’s my duty to take care of him,” you snapped at her, yanking your hand from her grip and walking towards the alley, Nat right behind you. 

As you neared the street, it became evident what was the fuss about. There were four men, dark figures without faces but you didn’t need to see their faces to recognize the only one lying on the cold concrete ground. Clint’s body was curled up in a ball, hands covering his face as he tried to protect himself from the punches one man was throwing at him. 

The other one was kicking his unprotected back while the third man just stood there, arms crossed over his chest...probably...as he stood with his back towards you. 

“Hell no,” you mumbled, making long strides towards the men before Nat stopped you again, this time more harshly yanking you backwards, holding you bicep with both of her hands.

“Y/N, no,” she said quietly, looking you dead in the eyes, “I think I know what’s going on, who they are...so let’s not get involved. Let’s go and call the police to take care of it.”

“You kidding, right?” you said, your voice flat and hard, “He’s my brother and we’re wasting time here. If you’re scared, wait in the car then,” a hiss escaped your red-colored lips as you escaped Nat’s grasp again. She nodded, going back to the car as you walked towards the men, adrenaline making the anger inside you overrun every other emotion including any trace of fear. 

“Hey,” you shouted.

It was like everything froze at once. The man who was punching your brother looked up at the same time as the one kicking him, only the one whose back was still turned towards you didn’t move much, you could only see his head moving up, taking his eyes off your brother and looking at his companions. 

“Let him go for Christ’s sake. Who do you think you are,” another flow of words left your lips as you neared them, still keeping a distance between you just to be sure. 

As you stood closer, you got a chance to observe the attackers. The one kicking Clint’s back was a man with darker skin, his hair extremely short, his body clad in a black shirt along with a black jacket, the look finished with black jeans. He wore the same or similar outfit as the blonde bearded guy who was punching your brother just a minute ago. His light skin almost shone under the street lights, his light eyes burning into your form. 

Finally, the third man turned around. He was the only one in a suit, his dark brown hair which appeared almost black was slicked back, his chiselled face decorated by a well-kept stubble, his light eyes making a contrast with his dark hair. As he turned around, he opened his suit jacket, a blank expression on his face. 

You would even call him breathtaking if he wasn’t attacking your brother a moment ago. 

His eyes lazily ran over your body, taking his time as you watched your brother. He was lying on the ground. Thankfully, his chest rose so at least he was still alive but it seemed he was unconscious...or at least too weak to attempt to even look at you. 

The man’s eyes returned back to your face, connecting with yours as a smirk slowly appeared on his face. 

“And why would I do that,” he slowly licked his lips, signalling the other two to leave with his raised hand. They didn’t question, only looked at him for a second before nodding, turning around and walking behind the corner to God’s know where. It was just him and you...and your unconscious brother who needed help...and fast. 

He was watching you like a wolf watches his prey, a predatory-like look on his face as he stood there, hands in his pants pockets and chin high, signalling how big his ego was.

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m going to slap that smirk right off of your smug face,” you said sternly, gaining a little courage to take a threatening step towards in hopes he would just turn around and walk away. 

Instead of a sign of giving up, the smirk only grew bigger as he took a step towards you as well. Subconsciously, you took a step back.

“I’d like to see you try, doll,” he replied, emphasizing the nickname as he walked towards you. At least his subject of interest wasn’t your brother anymore.

His opened jacket revealed a white shirt but what made your eyes widened and fear to take over you was the gun secured behind his belt at the front, the black handle evident and highly visible. It was almost like he wanted you to see it. Giving you a silent message not to mess  with him.

A lump grew in your throat as you slowly started to regret the decisions you’ve made. His steps were silent like jaguar’s as he walked towards you. 

“Go away,” you built the courage to speak. The words came out in a murmur. The man in front of you quickened his steps, swiftly closing on you as you attempted to turn around and run but it was too late. His long fingers wrapped around your wrist, yanking you back towards him. 

“Please, don’t.”

A quiet sob escaped your lips as complete panic took over you. The courage to save your brother was long gone as you were held with your back against his chest, feeling the gun on your lower back. 

“Don’t what, huh,” he asked with a chuckle, tightening his grip as he moved you towards the brick wall. Harshly, he trapped you between his body and the wall, turning you in the process so you were now facing him. 

“Y’know, I had some business to do,” he looked at your brother’s body for a moment, “and I do not like to be disturbed.”

His hand moved to your neck, squeezing a little.

“Where did your courage go?”

“Let me go,” a growl escaped your parted lips as you struggled against his grip.

“You have no idea who you’re messing with, do you,” his voice was intimidatingly low and he kept talking slowly, making sure you understood every single word he said.  

“A dick who hurt my brother,” you gripped his wrist with both your hands, trying to pry his grip open. 

His grip tightened and his amusement rose as he watched you. 

“Funny coming from someone who’s trembling in fear right now,” he replied, “this fake courageous facade isn’t shitting anyone, doll. I can see how much you’re scared of me. But I do admire the strength you’ve shown. Not many people have balls to do that.”

His tongue peeked through his lips as he licked them, his eyes going over your body with something in his eyes you couldn’t recognize. However, you sure as hell didn’t like it. 

As the darkest thoughts of what he was going to do to you filled your head, the struggle against his grip grew bigger.

“You are powerless against me.”

The end of the sentence was followed by police sirens as both your heads snapped to the direction of the noise, seeing the blue and red lights in the distance. 

“This is not the last time we’re meeting, little one,” he tightened his grip one last time before releasing you, letting you drop on your knees as he walked over to your brother. 

“Tell him he’s not out of it,” he turned his head to the side so he could see you, “yet.”

With that, he walked away without any rush as you could recognize the police cars nearing you. You watched as the man dissapeared in the dark, the street now lit by blue and red color. 


	2. Untouchable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♡ If you like this story, feel free to leave any feedback and let me know! ♡

The whole room was filled with a beeping of a computer. Your hand rested in your brother’s big one as he laid on the hospital bed, his eyes closed and chest rising periodically. It was exactly five days ago that you found him in the alley, beaten to unconsciousness.

The man in a suit was all you could think of. You couldn’t even comprehend a normal sentence after you told the police exactly what happened. All they did was say they’ll take care of it. It’d been five days. Five days of nothing. No news. No evidence. Nothing.

You heard your dad complaining about how useless the local police was but this was a whole another level. Clint was in the hospital. He was the only one you had left in this cruel world. And now he was part of something you didn’t understand.

“How are you feeling,” Nat asked, walking in. Quietly, she shut the door. Two cups of coffee were in her hands. She handed you one, sitting on the other side of Clint’s bed on the other stool.

“My brother is in the hospital. Police are useless and no one wants to tell me what’s going on. I feel great, how ‘bout you?” your brows were scrunched, head resting on the bed next to Clint’s body.

The five days of being constantly up and drifting to sleep only for a few hours per day definitely had taken a swing on you. The bags under your eyes were getting more visible, your skin had become pale and the clothes started to wear off as you hadn’t taken a proper care of yourself yet, scared of leaving Clint for even a minute.

_“_ _Tell him he’s not out of it yet…”_

_His_ words echoed in your head like a warning. He would come back eventually and you knew it. The only questing was “When?”

“Y/N,” your friend sighed. She sipped the coffee, looking at Clint’s beaten state, “I’m sorry.”

“He’s gonna be okay,” you mumbled, “nurses say he has broken ribs. A concussion as well. But he’ll be fine.”

Nat smiled weakly.

“I called in work, saying you were sick but they called me today. You haven’t answered your boss’ calls. None of them-“

“Don’t have time for that,” you interrupted her, closing your eyes as you felt the tiredness coming.

“Y/N, you can’t just stop going to work for that long,” she raised her voice a little bit, “I know he’s your only family left, but he’s safe here. You have to go to work or they will fire you and where would you be, huh? On the street. And we both know that’s not an option.”

Your eyes opened and you looked up at the redhead. She was now standing, the cup of coffee still in her hand, an angry expression on her face.

She was right, of course she was. However, the threat was hanging in the air. You could feel it. Sense it. Your brother was in danger and there was no way of protecting him if you weren’t by his side.

“Don’t make me drag you outta here,” Nat threatened you, tilting her head to the side.

A few minutes of silence filled the room, only the hospital equipment made interrupting noises.

As you watched your friend slowly put the coffee on a near table, you realized she was probably serious about the whole dragging out thing. Then you realized something else.

“You know something,” you murmured. Nat froze.

“What?”

“You know something,” you repeated. If you recalled right, and you were sure you did, she said she knew what was going on before you walked into that alley. She knew who they were.

“What’re you talking about, Y/N,” she continued to ask, avoiding the answer.

“When we saw the guys and my brother, right before I walked to them, you said something,” you closed your eyes, imagining the night as it was happening right now, “you said you knew what was going on. Something along the lines. Do you know them? The guys?”

“Y/N, you’re talking nonsense,” she rolled her eyes, walking over to your side. Her hands felt cold as she put them on your shoulders. Even through your shirt, you could feel the coolness.

An anger slowly rose inside you, bubbling beneath the surface. Everyone was lying to you. Hiding something. And you couldn’t take it anymore. The looks of pity and sympathy. Why would the hospital staff and police look at you like that? It was the same look Nat was giving you now.

“Stop it,” you raised from the wooden stool, your voice slightly higher and more aggressive. Nat took a step back as you turned to her with an angry look.

“Stop it, all of you,” you threw your arms in the air, irritated, “everyone is hiding something. Telling me that it’s gonna be okay but I know it won’t. He promised me to come back and police have chosen not to care. So stop trying to avoid the topic.”

“Calm down, Y/N,” Nat assured you in a calming voice, “police are taking care of it. They will catch ‘em soon enough.”

“How are you so sure, Nat?” you took a step forward, “I was up close with him. I saw every detail of his face. I told it to the police and all they did was look at each other as if they knew who he was. But ever since that moment, nothing happened.”

The wetness on your cheeks made you aware of the tears escaping your eyes. Nat breathed out, a worried look on her soft face. She moved forward, closing the distance and hugging you tightly. You reciprocated the hug with the same effort.

It was calming to have her by your side even though she seemed to know something. However, it was possible you were just imagining things. That whole night is a blur for you. The only thing you were sure about was how the man looked. Even his cologne is now deeply in your mind.

“You’re right,” you sighed, your head buried in the crook of her neck.

“Y’know, Y/N, no offence but you stink,” she murmured back. Both of you laughed at her comment but you had no choice left than to nod. You still wore the same clothes, not giving a damn.  Maybe it was time to go home and take care of yourself.

Nat was right. Hospitals were safe places. No danger could occur. Your brother was safe here, under the constant supervision of the nice nurses who took a great care of him.

Before pulling away, you squeezed Nat a little. She wiped the remaining tears from your face and handed you your coffee.

“How ‘bout I take you home? It’s getting dark and I don’t want you to walk all the way alone, huh?” she smiled.

You didn’t even notice it was almost dark. The hospital lights were so bright you had troubles knowing if it was day or night without looking in the window. You walked over to Clint, bending over to kiss him on the forehead, taking one last look at his bruised face.

“I’ll come back soon, Big Bear,” you smiled at him even though he couldn’t see you. Then, Nat took the lead as she walked you out of the room, going straight for the elevator.

* * *

“You sure you don’t want me to stay overnight?” Nat asked from her car as you walked to the front door of the building you had an apartment in. The nightlife was a lot busier than normal, cars honking like crazy.

“I’ll be okay,” you smiled back at her. Nat’s lips were shut tightly. She nodded, started the car again and took off before you even had a chance to say goodbye.

It was almost like she couldn’t way to get out of here. She was distant. Physically, she was there with you. However, emotionally it was almost like she tried to stay away from you lately. Your head felt like exploding. Everyone seemed fishy recently. The police and their looks. The same with nurses at the hospital and now your friend too.

You shook your head, clearing your mind. All you craved was a warm cup of cocoa, bubble bath and sleep. At least a week of sleep.

As you entered your apartment, an eerie feeling felt upon you. The room was so silent, so dark and you felt something you couldn’t describe. The streetlights threw some light in the living room, making you able to see the shapes of your furniture.

Your keys were left in the bowl next to your doors. The whole apartment was silent as you quietly moved around it, getting ready for bed. Even though your head was full of your brother and if he’s alright, you calmed yourself down with a reassurance that hospital is a completely safe place. Now it was time to take care of your own health.

The blanket warmed your body as you cuddled into the pillows, enjoying the comfort your bed provided you. It felt so nice to rest after almost a week of sitting in a hospital chair. Still, your brother was worth it.

However, that night didn’t give you much sleep either. Every few minutes, you would open your eyes. Even a small noise from the outside would make you wide awake. The strange feeling was there. In the back of your head, lurking.

The alarm clock showed four in the morning as you finally gave up. Trying to get some rest was useless as your mind wouldn’t allow you to.  

Your room was dark. The bedroom felt cold as you looked at your open doors into the hall. Normally, you hated sleeping with your doors open. However, tonight you felt safer being able to see your apartment from the comfort of your bed.

Your stomach rumbled. The sound so loud it made you chuckle. That made you remember that the last time you had eaten was probably last morning and only a cookie from a nurse. The kind older one which treated you like you were her daughter…or granddaughter more likely.

You slipped into your fluffy slippers, slowly going to the kitchen. The darkest closed around you, welcoming you as you walked through the apartment. There was no need to turn the lights on. The lights outside made you able to see around just enough plus you lived there for a few years now, remembering every obstacle.

Once in the kitchen, you started preparing a fruit tea with something to bite. As you were cutting tomatoes, your movements.

The first moment you woke up, you knew something was off. Finally, you were able to point out what was it. The presence of someone else.

The man was sitting on your armchair in the corner of your connected kitchen and living room. He sat comfortably in the dark, his eyes never leaving your body clad in a simple old shirt and pajama shorts, both crimson red color.

You knew he was looking into your eyes even though you were unable to see more than an outline of his body. A voice inside your head started screaming and panicking but you stayed completely still. He could be a killer for all you knew.

Your grip on the knife handle strengthened.

“Hello to you too, Y/N,” his voice was slightly raspy, indicating he hadn’t talked for a longer period.

_How long has he been there?_

There was no doubt whose voice it was. You could here thousands of them and always be able to tell which one was  _him_.

“How do you know my name?” you growled, pointing at him with your knife. The man stood up after a silent second. Strength and confidence radiated from his posture as he took a small step towards you. A few steps later, he came to a stop which was slightly illuminated from the outside world, making you able to see him in his whole glory.

This time, he wasn’t wearing a suit. His outfit was switched to a simple grey shirt, dark leather jacket and dark jeans. His face looked even sharper and more chiselled in the dimness of your apartment. There was no smirk or any hint of amusement on his stubbled face this time. This time, he was here to do a serious business and you could already tell he was bringing trouble you were not able to escape.


	3. The talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♡ If you like this story, feel free to leave any feedback and let me know! ♡

The room went silent after Bucky, or at least that’s what he said his name was, finished his little monologue. You were left breathless, not believing your brother was really part of _that_.

“You’re lying,” you murmured, holding the knife in your hand which rested on your lap. It was crazy how the last hour went on. From the moment he stood up from his hiding spot in the corner of your room to the moment he stood right in front of you, his impressive height hovering above you like a mountain.

However, he wasn’t intimidating to you. Nor it seemed that he was trying to. It was almost like he wanted you to feel comfortable around him. But men were players, you never knew what he would do or was capable of doing next.

“Y/N, wrap your head around it,” he smirked down at you, “your brother’s a criminal. And so are you now.”

“So am I?” the quick movement of you standing up was so fast it made the stool fell over. “How am I a criminal when _you_ attacked _me_ a week ago and now _you_ broke into _my_ apartment?! And I’m the criminal here?!”

With a caution, you walked over the kitchen island to the other side, putting a barrier in between the two of you.

Bucky chuckled, tilting his head as he watched you, enjoying your little outburst. His eyes were glued to your figure, watching your every movement and giving you one hundred percent of his attention.

“Do you have bruises?” he asked, taking a step towards you. Immediately, you took a step back.

 _No_ , you answered his question in your mind. His grip wasn’t hard enough to leave bruises, hence no marks on your neck. No evidence of the attack on you. Which, you had to admit, was smart. Even if you turned to police, you couldn’t accuse him of attacking you. Your brother yes, but not you.

“Tell me, doll,” he continued walking, slowly but surely trapping you in a corner, “did you have any trouble breathing? Did I cut your airways off?”

You shook your head, not knowing why are you even answering him. His voice was so alluring. It felt like you had no choice but to answer him, comply.

“Did a cause you any pain?” he stopped walking, deeply in thoughts, “I mean physical.”

Again, you shook your head. _Where was he going with this?_  

It didn’t take long for you to figure out the answer. His body was close to yours. However, he still kept a distance, only his hand was now wrapped around your wrist.

“That’s it. I didn’t attack you a week ago and you have no evidence even if I did,” his voice went lower, “I have morals. No women and kids can be harmed under my supervision. No exceptions. I might be bad, but I’m not evil.”

With a slight twist of your wrist, the knife in your hand fell to the floor. Bucky stared at you. Your eyes wide and wild, his completely calm and emotionless.

“Plus, you left your apartment unlocked. You’re lucky it’s only me who invited themselves in.”

“Get. Out,” you hissed, yanking your hand from his wrist and taking a few quick steps on the other side of the room. Bucky stayed still.

“I’m not leaving without my money, doll,” he looked up at the picture of you and Clint which was proudly standing on your fridge.

“Your brother’s in hospital. According to his records, he will sleep for a -“

“How do you know about his records?” you interrupted him, an angry expression on your face. How was he able to get into such a thing?

“I’m the boss,” his smug smirk was growing wider as he looked at you, a shadow of arrogance flying over his face.

“What do you want from me?”

The lack of sleep along with helplessness slowly rose inside you. He was driving you crazy and it’s been only an hour. An hour of unstopping danger lurking in this room. You started to feel helpless and wanted him out of your apartment as soon as possible. But it seemed he was not planning on going just yet.

His chest rose as he took a deep breath, walking over to you. It surprised you when he stopped the moment your hand rose and touched the middle of his chest, hidden under a simple grey shirt. You could feel the hard muscle, your mind drifting to other places before you shook the thoughts away.

“Can you stop invading my personal space?” you told him and almost silently added: “please.”

Even when you talked with him. A person who made you furious just from existing, your mother’s years of education and etiquette kicked in. And you were thankful for that because it looked like he complied.

“You aren’t like most people I’ve worked with,” his voice was low. Every time he was close to you, his voice went lower. Almost like he didn’t want anyone to hear his words accept you. Or could there be a different reason?

“Maybe ‘cus I don’t work with you,” you answered harshly, pushing his chest. Bucky chuckled and took a step back.

“Well now you do.”

You laughed, not giving a damn about the mob boss in your apartment and how dangerous this man could be.

“Funny you think that.”

His eyes watched your smile grow. You irritated him, made him furious. He wanted to beat his anger on someone. But on the other hand, you humored him. The simple presence of you made him question things.

“I want my money back,” Bucky said after a good minute. The humor in his eyes vanished and the whole atmosphere in the apartment changed from relaxed to a more serious one. It made your skin crawl.

“And if you aren’t able to give them to me-“

“Why me,” you interrupted. Why the hell would he want the money back from you when you had _nothing_ to do with him or his cartel.

“I’ll get them one way or another, Y/N,” your name slipped from his lips like a melody, rolling on his tongue, “your brother is in hospital being useless. I’m not a patient man, doll. I don’t like waiting and I’m sure as hell won’t wait for your brother to wake up.”

It was almost like his height grew with every word, making you smaller every second that passed.

“Let me tell you this. One of my people will come back in a week, that should be enough time for you to get the money. If not…well,” he chuckled, “there’s always a chance Clint won’t wake up at all.”

“You can’t be serious,” you yelled. Did he really just threaten your brother’s life?!

Bucky only smiled. However, it wasn’t a nice smile, or a reassuring one. This one was a sinister smile. Pure wickedness. He didn’t answer, his back facing you now as he walked towards your door.

His mind was set on leaving, but your next words stopped him, making a beast come out.

“You fucking cunt, threatening someone who can’t defend themselves.”

Everything happened in one swift motion as he crossed the room, both hands harshly gripping your hips. A surprised yell escaped your lips as he slammed you against the table. The hard wooden edge dug into your lower back as you had no choice left then bent slightly backwards, trying to escape his furious look.

“You do not get to call me names!” his voice went incredibly high as he shouted in your face, not giving a single damn about neighbors, “you are nothing, you understand?! Nothing against me. Just a helpless, useless woman and nothing more! You’ll do as I say for as long as I say, doll, and nothing less. You work for me now, understand!”

He was unrecognizable. His brows were scrunched down. His eyes wild like a mad animal. His voice harsh, full of dominance as he gripped your hips, holding you against the table. Where did the whole not hurting women and kids go, huh?

Your body began to tremble.

“I said,” this time, his voice was back to normal and his grip loosen, freeing you, “understand?”

Without a second thought, you nodded violently, your hair falling into your face.

“I want words, Y/N,” he whispered, moving your hair out of your sight. He acted so calm, so smart, like nothing happened.

“Understand.”

The words came out strangled, the lump in your throat so big you thought you wouldn’t be able to talk at all. After what he’s just showed…was he able to hurt you more? Would he do that if you don’t give him the money? Would he hurt you? Or worse, would he really kill your Clint?

There was no doubt. Your head was set on one mission as you watched Bucky collect himself and leave your apartment.

Even without knowing how to, you had to give him the money your brother owns him.

* * *

 

It’s been three days. You didn’t hear from him nor his people but something told you he was there somewhere. The feeling of someone’s eyes on you never left.

As you walked home from your work to a near café, a strange feeling entered you. For the last week, you never felt less safe. And all this because of your brother, who seemed to have decided it was better to stay asleep.

His condition stayed the same as the day Bucky visited you. According to the hospital, Clint will stay in an induced coma for a little bit just to make sure he won’t hurt himself. Which left you with no one to talk to, cry to about your situation. Even Nat hasn’t answered your calls, making you concerned. However, your focus was currently on something different and more important.

The time he gave you was slowly running out. There was no chance in the world you would be able to give him all them money. You had to thing your plan through. Even all your life savings weren’t enough to cover one third of what you were supposed to pay back. Something was telling you he knew that as well. 

“I am so sorry,” you apologized as a young woman bumped straight into your shoulder, her books falling out of her hands.

“It’s okay, really,” she smiled back. Both of you scrunched down and picked up her books.

Everyone was fishy to you. A young girl, standing by her mother’s side, looking you deathly in the eyes as you frowned. An elder man, around his seventies, with an old grey dog, walking around you and murmuring incoherent sentences, complaining about younger generations.

However, your senses never betrayed you. You remembered your mom, how she always used to say that your sixth sense will get you into trouble.

“Look at me now mom. Always right,” you mumbled to yourself, quickly looking up into the darkening sky. It started to be colder. Time to go home.

That was the moment you saw him. You had to blink like thousand times to make sure it was truly _him_ but that face couldn’t be mistaken for any other. Bucky was sitting in a backseat of some car which was parked in a near parking lot. Behind the wheel was the blonde bearded man who was attacking your brother.

Their eyes were on you as you stopped walking. The busy street was like a river, washing around you like you were a rock. People didn’t even question why would someone stop in the middle of a street, looking nowhere in particular.

Just a minute passed before you came back to life. As a sign of annoyance, you shook your head at him and put on the hood on your crimson red slightly oversized hoodie. So you were right and someone was really watching you.

Did they actually believe you had a chance to gather all the money? If so, they were surely delusional.

What you didn’t understand was the fact the car took off as well, making you speed up. You were sure you just gain Bucky’s interest as you ran into the alley. It was clear you won’t be staying home tonight. Undoubtfully, he will be there.

That’s why you were thankful for your brother. He’d given you his keys, making you able to visit him anytime. His apartment was slightly bigger which you never understood where would he get enough money to pay for the rent. Now you understood.

Clint’s apartment was a mess as you entered it, hoping to not find anyone in there. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked over the living room. Lamps were shattered on the floor, couch’s pillows ripped apart, pieces of fabric and leathers all over the place.

Someone broke in, there was no doubt about that. But why would Bucky do that to Clint if he knew Clint was in hospital and without his money? Did he really have to make a mess of Clint’s home?

As you walked over the shattered glass, careful not to step on anything, your whole body froze. Now, you would be thankful for it to be Bucky or any of his people because even though he attacked you, you knew he wouldn’t actually hurt you. He needed his money.

The man who just came out of Clint’s bedroom was a whole another thing. His black hair slicked back, the black beard perfectly trimmed into a clean shape. The posture radiated confidence, even more than Bucky.

His voice sounded friendly, making your skin crawl.

“I was hoping to meet actually, miss Barton.”


End file.
